


3am

by PumpkinDoodles



Series: Taserbones Tumblr Prompts & Tiny (Adorkable) Fics [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Brock is okay with it, Darcy is a sleep crasher, F/M, Snuggling, Triple Agent Rumlow, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2020-10-26 11:40:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20741624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinDoodles/pseuds/PumpkinDoodles
Summary: based on this prompt:https://yespumpkindoodlesthings.tumblr.com/post/187889909338/imagineyouricon-imagine-your-icon-showing-up-atimagine your icon showing up at your house at 3 am and crawling into your bed with no context or explanation





	1. 3am

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing!

Rumlow was tired. Unexpectedly. The quinjet touched down at 2:15am and he trudged to his quarters at the base in Norway. It was his first real, non-undercover mission after Helen Cho had patched up his Crossbones injuries, so he could return to official SHIELD work. Fury had insisted on three months of administrative work in New York to test his healing. Finally, they’d called him to Norway. He’d been itching to get back to fieldwork, but the jolt of adrenaline he’d gotten during the firefight had been more intense than he’d anticipated. His post-Triskelion injuries must’ve muted that feeling, he realized, as he walked towards his room. The floors were squeaky and the lights were on their nighttime setting, but he was fully awake. All his repaired nerves were humming. He unlocked the door and started flicking on lights.

He was never going to sleep tonight. 

Instead of going to sleep, he got a beer from the fridge--fuck the time change---and turned on the television. He’d been channel-surfing for twenty minutes and thinking about work when there was a knock at the door. That recalled him to the present. He stood up, quietly registering that it was after three in the morning. It was a secured facility, so he knew it had to be one of the team or maybe Hill with a procedural issue. “Whaddya need--?” he began, swinging the door open carelessly. Then he stopped, staring.

Darcy Lewis was standing in his doorway. In her flannel penguin pajamas. Yawning.

“You’re back,” she said, wiggling the blanket she’d draped around her shoulders. His eyes moved down to her fuzzy puppy slippers. 

“Yeah,” he said, confused. He and Lewis didn’t know each other; not well, anyway. He’d been introduced. They spoke to each other in the halls. Once, she and Foster had eaten lunch with his team. He’d flirted with her a little, yeah. She was cute. And funny. She shuffled past him into the apartment. ”Is there something you need?” he asked, turning to watch her and shutting the door.

“Can’t sleep,” she said, yawning. “This your room?”

“Ye--what are you doing?” he said. She was climbing under his sheets and blanket.

“Come to bed,” she mumbled. He followed her into the room. 

“What?”

“I can’t sleep alone, it’s too cold,” she muttered. “Hate the freaking cold.” Her face scrunched up and she wiggled deeper into the blankets. “Even your sheets are cold.”

“I wasn’t in bed,” he said. “Do you want me to sleep with you? In my bed?” he asked, staring down at her.

“Yeah,” she said. She reached up blearily and patted the bed. “Just sleep. I won’t trick you. No fooling 'round. Get in.” He looked at her.

“Are you sure?” he asked. The only response was her gentle, wheezy snoring. “Jesus,” he muttered. Then he climbed into bed slowly. He was trying to keep distance from her, but she wiggled over and scooted against him. Very carefully, he put his arm around her. “Tricks?” he repeated, starting to laugh. 

“What?” she mumbled.

“You think you could pull something on me? You? I watched you lose a fight with your sweater in the break room, Lewis. You fell down trying to get your arm in the sleeve.” He rubbed her back.

“Lost my balance,” she said, wiggling against his neck. Her breath was warm. She smelled like vanilla, too, he realized. “Sleeves are tricky,” she said. “How’s mission?” The last line was interrupted by another yawn.

“Good, good,” he said. 

“Good. Sleep now,” she said, reaching up to pat his hair a little. She was snoring again when he wondered if he should have asked her what she wanted for breakfast.

Or if they were dating. That might be important.


	2. 5am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing! Prompt request from winchesterxgirl: i have feelings for u. not telling u which ones.

Brock woke up when his gym alarm went off. His bed was warm—and occupied by a second person. Darcy Lewis was snuggled up next to him. “Lewis,” he said. He repeated her name. Her only response was to wiggle closer to him. Brock sighed. He needed to actually talk to her about this thing between them, but she was impossible to wake up before six in the morning. “Darcy,” he said, leaning closer to her. She was snoring softly. One pajama-clad arm was settled around his waist. He grimaced slightly. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him. A strange woman in his bed. Wearing goofy pajamas. Today’s pattern was little ducks in a bathtub. She had all kinds of pajamas. So far, he’d seen her in ducks, rainbows, sheep, even sock monkeys racing old cars. “I’m a damn STRIKE Commander,” he said aloud. There was no response from the woman in his bed. If she’d been one of his team, he would’ve been blunt, shaken her awake. He gazed at Lewis’s sleeping face. There were strands of hair hanging in her eyes. He pushed the hair off her forehead. That didn’t wake her, either. She wheezed like a French bulldog. Drooled sometimes. He couldn’t yell at her at five in the morning with pillow marks and drool on her face. He wasn’t heartless, no matter what people said. He sighed again as the alarm went off and fumbled to silence it. “I gotta go, baby,” Brock said. He slid out from under her arm gently. She wiggled into the warm spot left by his body heat and Brock covered her with the blanket.

He’d ask her again tonight.

Except Foster kept her working late, so when Lewis knocked that night, he could tell she was exhausted. “Hey,” he said. “You okay?” She wasn’t even in her pajamas, just her regular clothes. 

“I’m so tired,” Darcy said, practically stumbling inside. He caught her.

“I gotcha,” he said, lifting her in his arms. “You need food?” he asked, carrying her into the bedroom. He had a strict no food in bed rule, but what was the harm in breaking it, just this once?

“I’m too tired to eat,” she said, yawning. He put her in bed, then pried off her tall boots. "Thank you," she said, clearly fatigued.

“You can have some of my clothes,” he said, getting her a thermal and a pair of lined sweatpants. When he looked back, she was already stripping her clothes off. “Shit,” he said in surprise. Lewis was shirtless. She held her hand out for the shirt. He tossed it over, uncertain about where to look. Fuck, she had great tits. He was slightly fascinated as she pulled the shirt over her chest, then lifted her hips to take off her jeans.

“I’ll get you something to drink,” he said, backing out of the room. 

  
  


* * *

“I can’t figure out this thing with Lewis,” Rumlow confessed to Jack Rollins. They were in the facility’s gym. Rollins looked at him quizzically from the adjacent treadmill. His curious face was only vaguely homicidal.

“How long you been hooking up, mate?” the Australian asked. He’d seen Lewis leaving Rumlow’s apartment in the mornings once or twice. In her pajamas. Rumors ran wild at the facility. He was slightly surprised—she didn’t seem like Rumlow’s type. 

“No--we sleep together, but it’s not hooking up,” Rumlow said, shaking his head. His feet slowed on the treadmill. 

“Well, what do you call it then?” Rollins asked, frowning.

“She gets cold,” Rumlow said slowly. “She don’t like to sleep alone. So she asked to sleep with me one night. After the Lithuania thing the other week. Just showed up at my door.”

“After the Lithuania thing?” Rollins repeated, still baffled. 

“Yeah,” Rumlow said. “We don’t--there’s no sex. I keep meaning to ask--but we keep getting called to meetings and shit before she’s had her coffee and you can’t ask her anything before coffee--”

“What in bloody hell are you talking about?” Rollins said.

“There’s no fucking need to take that tone with me,” Rumlow said sharply. Then he lowered his voice. “It’s a complicated situation.”

“You’re not slee--fucking?” Jack repeated, trying to process this new set of facts. Brock shook his head. “Well,” Jack said, slowly, repressing his grin, “that’s a new one, ‘innit?”

“You don’t have to be so goddamned happy about it,” Brock said. Jack grinned ferally. “I should just wake her up,” he added out loud. “Who cares if she’s not a morning person?”

“Sure thing, mate,” he said. “You can wake her up in the middle of the bloody night.”

“Yeah,” Brock said.

“Especially if you don’t care about the answer,” Jack said, voice deceptively mild.

“What?” Brock said.

“Well, she’s more likely to tell you to fuck right off at three in the morning, isn’t she?” Jack said. “But if you’re not worried about how she’ll answer, have a go. What’s the harm?”

“Yeah,” Brock repeated.

“Or, I reckon you could bloody text her?” Jack offered. “Sometime when she’s awake?”

  
  
  
  


* * *

**Cmdr. B. Rumlow, STRIKE Alpha: **Are we ever going to talk about this sleeping together thing?

**World’s Okayest Assistant: **sure. 

**Cmdr. B. Rumlow, STRIKE Alpha: **And?

**World’s Okayest Assistant: w**hat do u want to talk about? am i snoring 2 much?

**Cmdr. B. Rumlow, STRIKE Alpha:** No, no.

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** oh. i thought i snored?

**Cmdr. B. Rumlow, STRIKE Alpha:** You do, but that’s not what I want to talk about.

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** ok

**Cmdr. B. Rumlow, STRIKE Alpha:** What’s going on between us?

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** ohhhhhhhh

**World’s Okayest Assistant: **I have feelings for u.

**Cmdr. B. Rumlow, STRIKE Alpha: **Really?

**World’s Okayest Assistant: **not telling u which ones.

**Cmdr. B. Rumlow, STRIKE Alpha: **Don’t be a wiseass.

**Cmdr. B. Rumlow, STRIKE Alpha: **And why do you text like Prince?

**World’s Okayest Assistant:** i’m 2 cool

**World’s Okayest Assistant: ** $ don’t matter 2 me

**Cmdr. B. Rumlow, STRIKE Alpha: **Now you’re just fucking with me.

**World’s Okayest Assistant: **[gif of Prince]

**World’s Okayest Assistant: **u wanna have dinner 2 night?

**Cmdr. B. Rumlow, STRIKE Alpha: **Yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive, in case y'all were worried, just taking things slow! Come hang out with me on tumblr, if you want: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/yespumpkindoodlesthings


	3. 7 pm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I own nothing!

Brock was fretting over the stove when she knocked. “Hey, I’m mak--” he began. He opened the door and blinked. Darcy was standing there in a red dress. He’d never seen her in anything but her work clothes and pajamas. She looked incredible. And she was smiling at him like she knew it.

“Hello,” she said, grinning. “You were saying?”

“That’s, uh, a good dress,” he said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. He caught himself licking his lips. 

“I know,” she told him. “I save it for special occasions. What’s that noise?” she asked, tilting her head. Brock tore his eyes away from her body.

“It’s uh---fuck,” he said. “Something’s boiling over.”

“Really?” Darcy said mirthfully. She was fucking with him, he could tell.

“You stop that,” he said, bolting to the kitchen. 

“I’m just saying, someone is--” Darcy began, following him. He swore vividly. “What’s wrong?” she asked. Brock gazed mournfully at the pan. He sighed. So much for impressing her. He felt like he was always slightly off his game with Darcy. 

“My mushrooms are burned. Shit,” he said. "Fuck."

“Yup, that's burned. Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” Darcy said, peering around him. “I know the solution to this problem.”

“You do?” Brock said, looking over his shoulder.

“Mmm-hmm,” she said, rubbing his back. She picked up her phone and smiled. 

“You can do something with this?” he said, gesturing with his spatula.

“That? Nope, but I’ve got a security-approved food delivery guy. You want the steak or the fish?”

“Oh,” Brock said. “Salmon,” he added. When she hung up, Darcy smiled at him. “What is it?” he asked.

“What can you do in thirty to forty minutes, besides burn things?” she asked, still grinning. That smile could’ve killed him.

“No,” he said, wagging a finger. “I wanna hear about these feelings you’ve got?”

“Oh,” she said, smirking. She took a step back. “What if they’re secret feelings? And I don’t want to share them?”

“Nope,” he said, taking a slow, careful step towards her. 

“Not yet!” Darcy insisted. He shook his head slowly. “I can’t have a secret?” she said, stepping away from him again.

“Are you running from me?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Maybe,” she said. 

She shrieked joyfully when he chased her into the bedroom.

“Caught you,” he whispered in her ear, arms around her waist. He’d grabbed her at the foot of his bed.

“Technically,” Darcy said, “I’m the one who has been a non-permitted tenant in your SHIELD apartment, so I think I caught you first.”

“You think so?” Brock said, brushing his mouth against her neck. “How attached are you to this dress, Lewis?” He tugged the fabric a little, just as a joke.

“It has a zipper,” Darcy scolded. “Don’t you tear my favorite dress, Brock Rumlow.” He laughed.

“Attached, huh?” he said. He wasn’t going to tear it, but he wanted to prolong the moment. It thrilled him to flirt with her like this, even crudely. “If you caught me first, does that mean you had feelings first?” he wondered, palming her hips. As he touched her, she relaxed against him with a soft sigh. 

“Yeah,” she said in dreamy voice. “I really did.”

“Good,” he said, kissing her jaw. “You wanna do something about it?” Brock asked.

“We’ve got thirty minutes,” she whispered, turning to face him. He smiled at her as she stood on her tip toes to kiss him. Then she stopped and frowned.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he said, leaning in. 

“You don’t think I just go around snuggling everybody?” Darcy said archly. 

"Uh--no, no. Of course not," Brock said.


End file.
